Actual Hope
by Strawberry Shortcake123
Summary: Tony and Ziva protect a young pregnant woman, and the experience gets Ziva thinking about what she really wants.  Based on episode description for 9x11, Newborn King.  Tiva.  Oneshot.


**Hello, ya'll! I started this story maybe a week ago, after the episode summary for this Tuesday's episode was released. Here it is: After a Navy Captain is murdered in his hotel room, the NCIS team has to find his pregnant companion and protect her from unknown assailants. Meanwhile, Jimmy brings his future father-in-law to work.**

**Since then, the promo for the episode has been released, and based on that, the events in this story are most likely not happening. But pretend for me, okay? : )**

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS!**

"DiNozzo, Ziva. I want you two with her." Gibbs pointed at the young woman who stood uncomfortably by the window, waiting for the team to decide how to handle her. "Every second of the clock, got it?"

Tony and Ziva moved behind their desks and began gathering their Sigs, coats and backpacks. Once she was ready, Ziva moved toward the windows and held out her hand to the younger woman. "I'm Ziva David, and that is Tony DiNozzo. We are going to be your security detail."

Johanna managed a small smile. "Thank you." After shaking Ziva's hand, she moved both of hers to her eight-months-pregnant, due-any-day belly that protruded from the open front of her plaid trench coat. Ziva smiled ruefully at the gesture, thinking about the father who would never get to see his baby, but said nothing. Instead, she looked back at her partner.

"Tony, what on earth are you doing? Giving yourself a manicure?"

"No," he snapped, leaving his desk and an activity that looked suspiciously like using the computer screen to check his hair. "Although I'm sure you could use one, Zee-vah."

Ziva smirked and shoved her hand in his face. He blinked in surprise as he was presented with perfectly shaped nails. "Actually, I don't," she sniffed, and then started for the elevator, motioning for Johanna to follow. Tony trailed behind, but didn't miss the look of bemusement Johanna gave him and his partner.

They got down to the lobby and walked out to the parking lot. Well, more like waddled- they were going Johanna's speed, and she wasn't moving very fast. Tony and Ziva flanked her and didn't say much until they reached the security car they would be using. It was neither of theirs, so as Tony walked to the driver's side, he called over his shoulder, "You got the key?"

"No," Ziva said. "I thought you had it."

"I don't have it."

"Gibbs gave it to you."

"He did not!"

They proceeded to engage in a staring contest, each daring the other to give up and go back into the building. Finally, Tony sighed and muttered that he'd be right back.

Once he was out of earshot, Ziva grinned smugly and leaned against the trunk of the car, arms folded over her chest. "He always cracks eventually," she said, and then her eyes involuntarily shifted to Johanna's belly. She bit her lip and turned away.

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"I think she thinks we hate each other."

Ziva chuckled, trying to be quiet. "Yes. When this is all over and done with, she will be very glad to see us go."

To be safe, Tony and Ziva had decided that one of them would sleep on Johanna's floor. It was Ziva's turn tonight, and Tony would be on the couch in the living room, but at the moment, they were both in the bedroom. Johanna had fallen asleep about an hour ago, evidently worn out after a day of sitting at NCIS, then coming home and listening to her security detail argue. Now, Ziva was laying back on her pillow, blanket pulled up to her chin, and talking to Tony, who sat cross-legged at her side. As they sat there, Tony's hand kept creeping closer to Ziva, grazing her skin with a mind of its own, but she didn't mind. Something about the night made her feel more open, able to accept a gesture of affection.

"Have you spoken to Gibbs?" she asked, taking on a more somber tone of voice. In the light trickling in from the hallway, she saw him nod. "What did he say?"

"Still working on it," Tony informed her, brushing a wayward strand of hair from her face. "No real leads."

"None?"

"Nope. They'll be at it all night."

Ziva sat up. "Do you think both of us should sleep at the same time? Maybe one of us should keep watch."

"Sure," Tony said with a shrug. "I'll do it."

"Well, I mean, we can trade in the middle of the night."

"Nah. Get your beauty sleep, David. Did you not see all the movies this woman has? It's amazing. I'll sleep when you wake up in the morning."

A yawn escaped when she started to protest, and motivated both by Tony's gentle hand on her shoulder and her feeling of nocturnal relaxation, Ziva lay back down. She settled into her blanket and buried her face in her pillow, closing her eyes as Tony's fingers stroked the back of her head. Then he whispered, "Good night," and she repeated it back to him, and she heard him stand up and walk out of the bedroom. Immediately, she missed having him in such close proximity, but a few minutes later the opening music of some movie came on, and she had to smile.

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It was past 0900 the next morning before Johanna wandered into the living room. Unable to go out for a run because Tony was asleep, Ziva was getting her daily exercise through yoga. When she saw Johanna, she quickly rose from the pose she was in and snapped back into agent mode. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm fine." Johanna watched Ziva drink from a glass of water, then shifted her gaze to Tony, who was sprawled across the couch, asleep, with a blanket tucked carefully around him- this seemed to be Ziva's doing. "He must be tired."

Ziva smiled. "He stayed awake all night, until I woke up. When I came in here at seven, he thanked God and immediately lay down. Would you like some breakfast? I can go make something."

Fifteen minutes later, Ziva and Johanna were sitting across from each other at the table, each with a plate of picturesque, perfectly round pancakes. As they ate, Ziva watched Johanna carefully. If stress from the loss of her husband was going to send her into labor, it would have by now, correct? Ziva tried to think of a way to ask if she was doing alright without being too blunt- nobody had ever accused her of having tact, but she could try. Before she thought of something to say, Johanna spoke. "How long have you and Agent DiNozzo been working together?"

"About six years now," Ziva replied, dragging a forkful of pancake through a puddle of syrup. She popped it into her mouth, just as she glanced up and saw Johanna's surprised face. "Why?"

"It's just… I can't believe you've been able to work together that long. He drives you insane, doesn't he?"

Suddenly, it made sense, and Ziva could not help laughing out loud. "Of course he does. I make him crazy, too. It is just the way we are."

Johanna tilted her head, uncomprehending. "So you actually like him?"

"I love him."

The words were out before she could stop them, and fire raced up her cheeks. She twisted around in her seat to peer into the living room, her shoulders sagging in clear relief when Tony snored loudly. Turning back to the younger woman, who looked unsure how to proceed with the conversation, Ziva tried to cover up her blunder. "I mean, not like _that. _We are friends. Very close friends, but friends." Shoving the last bite of pancake into her mouth, she stood up and took her plate to the sink, thinking about the way she felt when Tony touched her arm or stroked her hair, and wondering whether that was really the way a friend would feel.

Johanna was quiet, and the snoring from the other room ceased. Ziva paused as she noticed the silence that settled over the house. Then, at the exact same time, she heard Tony groggily call her name and Johanna say, "I think my water just broke."

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Ziva moved quickly around Johanna's bedroom, grabbing clothes and tossing them into an open suitcase. In the other room, she heard Tony on the phone with Gibbs, explaining the situation. As she decided that she had packed enough clothes and began to zip the suitcase shut, Tony entered the room, closed cell phone in his hand. "Gibbs gave us the okay. Ready when you are."

"I am ready," she said, grabbing the bag by a handle on top. They filed out of the bedroom and went into the living room, where Johanna sat on the couch, apparently attempting to calm herself down by breathing heavily. "Here is a bag for you," Ziva said, and went over to offer Johanna her arm. She took it, rising shakily to her feet. "Do not worry. We are going to the hospital right now. You are just now beginning to have contractions, yes?"

"Right." Johanna's face was white, her voice little more than a whisper.

"You will be fine." Ziva smiled encouragingly, and Tony held the door open for the girls as they walked past. However, once he was outside and had locked the front door, Tony dashed to the driver's side of the car.

"Hey!" Ziva yelled as she helped Johanna into the backseat. "I am driving!"

"No, you're not."

"We will get there faster!"

"We don't _need_ to get there faster, Ziva."

With a huff, Ziva shut the door and walked around the back of the car, heading for the passenger's side. Inside, Johanna asked, "Why don't you want her to drive?"

"Trust me," Tony told her. "By refusing to let her, I am saving all of our lives right now."

Had Ziva heard this conversation, she would have slugged Tony; as it was, she slid into the passenger's seat calmly.

For the next half hour, Tony drove, and Ziva talked to the scared mother-to-be in the backseat. Johanna looked absolutely terrified. She held her stomach and gasped every time she had a slight contraction.

"It is okay," Ziva soothed for the eleventh time.

"Agent David-"

"Call me Ziva."

"Ziva. Do you have any children?"

Johanna was so in need of somebody to actually _relate_ to what she was going through; she asked the question with a hint of desperation. It hurt Ziva to have to shake her head no. After a moment of looking disappointed, Johanna said, "Agent DiNozzo, you wouldn't happen to have given birth, would you?"

For a moment, the car was silent; then, for the first time since Johanna had come to Gibbs' team for help the day before, she started laughing. Ziva looked over at Tony, whose face was scrunched up as he debated whether to be abused or annoyed, and she couldn't help but join in. In the end, amusement won out, and all three of them were laughing as they pulled onto the exit to the hospital.

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"Have you spoken to Gibbs again?" Ziva asked quietly. They were settled in Johanna's hospital room. Nurses were flitting in and out; Johanna lay in bed, resting her eyes.

Tony sat down in the chair beside her. "No."

"Did he say anything about the case when you talked to him at the house?"

"There's a suspect," Tony mumbled, glancing at the bed. Nothing changed on Johanna's face to indicate that she could hear them. "Gibbs was bringing him in for questioning."

"I hope they have the right guy." Her eyes drifted over to Johanna, to the bump under the blanket that was her belly. Right now, her priority was keeping this woman and her child safe. There was no rational explanation for her protectiveness of these two people; still, she felt psychologically and emotionally attached to this assignment.

"Even if they don't, they will," Tony said confidently. "It's Gibbs. That gut will always find the bad guy."

Ziva hoped he was right.

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Four hours later, Johanna was awake and her contractions were getting worse. The doctor gave her medication, which eased the pain to the point where she could sit up in bed and read a book. Tony and Ziva- well, mostly Tony- were getting restless. They had somehow produced a deck of cards, and now they were playing War on a little table they had dragged out from the wall. Whenever Ziva won the hand, she simply pulled the cards toward her; whenever Tony won, he yelled, slapped his hand on the table, and taunted his partner. That is, until a nurse told him that he wasn't doing Johanna any favors by being noisy.

"I'm hungry," he announced once the nurse left. Ziva was kicking his butt, anyway; he wasn't terribly interested in continuing to play. "Want anything?"

"Where are you going?"

"Just downstairs to the cafeteria."

Ziva drew the playing cards toward her, into a pile, and thought. "I would like a salad."

Tony stared at her, then looked over at Johanna, who was staring at them over the top of her book. "Can you believe this chick?" he asked the pregnant woman. "She wants a _salad._ Why is she such a health nut?"

Johanna shrugged helplessly, and Ziva turned to her. "Ignore him." Then she returned to her playing cards, focusing on putting them back into a deck and not looking at Tony. When he passed behind her, though, his hand grazed her shoulder, and she smiled to herself.

Once he was out of the room, Johanna looked over at Ziva. "Now I see what you mean."

Ziva furrowed her brow. "Hmm?"

"About how that's just how your relationship is. How you tease each other, but you also love each other."

Her face got red-hot at this last part, even though she had voiced it herself just that morning. Although she had said nothing about _him_ loving _her_. Then again… he probably did. At least as a friend.

_No,_ she reminded herself forcefully. _Not at least. Only. Only as a friend._

When Tony returned with the salad, it had exactly the right amount of ranch dressing spread over the green leaves, and ten croutons sitting primly in the dressing. It was as if it had been made by her own hands in her own kitchen, but it hadn't. Tony had made it; he had taking the hospital cafeteria salad and made sure it was exactly the way Ziva liked it.

She wondered how he even knew that. Maybe he paid more attention than she thought.

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Fifteen games of War, twelve hours, eight phone calls from Gibbs, and three salads later, the baby was born. Tony and Ziva stood just behind the crowd of people circling Johanna, and they couldn't see much, but they heard the baby's first cry. Coos and cheering filled the room, and a nurse carried him off to be cleaned. As she looked up at Tony and they grinned at each other, Ziva felt the backs of her eyes burn.

Later, close to five in the morning, Ziva left the hospital room. She had been sitting up as Johanna and Tony slept; when she decided to step out for a few minutes, she woke Tony up. As soon as his eyes opened, she stood up and walked out the door, striding down the hallway with a purpose.

She came to the nursery and pressed her face to the glass. It was full of cribs with sweet little babies resting in them. Her eyes scanned up and down the rows until she saw the crib, and the baby boy, she was looking for: William. Even more beautiful, if possible, than when he had come into the world mere hours ago, he was sleeping peacefully, little fists curled up next to his head. Ziva watched him, admired him.

"Hey."

With a yelp, she spun around to find Tony. He stood there casually, hands in his pockets, and she glared at him. "What are you doing here? Somebody needs to be with Johanna!"

Tony put out a hand to stop her as she began to march back to the room. "Chill. Gibbs just got here. He's in there with her."

"Oh." Ziva narrowed her eyes. "Why is Gibbs here?"

"Relieve us. I came to tell you that we can go home."

"Oh," she said again, and felt an irresistible pull back to the nursery glass. She returned her gaze to William, and then, the feeling she always had late at night, or very early in the morning, where she was loose and relaxed, took hold of her. "Tony?"

"Yeah."

"I want this." The words came out softer than intended, and Ziva wondered if Tony had heard her. A glance up at his face, however, showed that he had. It was only in this moment that she realized how true her statement was. It was the reason she had been so invested in protecting Johanna. She felt bad for the woman, yes, and wanted her and the baby to be safe, but more than that, Johanna's story had reached a place deep inside her, a place she didn't allow herself to think about too often. A place that wanted people to love. Such as a child.

"You want… a baby?" Tony clarified, looking confused. She didn't blame him; what reason had she ever given him to believe that she thought about having a family? That she was lonely?

"Yes."

"Like… now?"

Ziva looked into his bemused face and couldn't fight a smile. "Not necessarily, no. I suppose… I suppose I just want it to seem plausible."

"Of course it's plausible," Tony said softly. Now he was standing right next to her, and they each turned to face the other, cheeks pressed against the glass. "I'm sure there's a lot of guys out there who would love to have a family with you, Ziva."

She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again, let them bore into his. "But I do not want just any guy, Tony. I want one I love, one I will actually be happy with."

"He's out there. And when you find him, you're going to have a total Gibbs' gut reaction. You'll just _know._" He tentatively touched her hand. "You know?"

"Yes," Ziva said, and she did know. She knew because it had happened to her before, about six years ago. From the look on Tony's face, she concluded that he knew exactly what she was thinking, and she allowed him to entwine his fingers with hers. Their hands molded together perfectly. As she stepped forward and rested her head on Tony's chest, she looked in at the nursery again, at William, and felt hope. Actual hope.

It was a good feeling.

**Yeah, so. I don't even know what this is. I hope you liked reading it somewhat, because I'm not really seeing any point in it! :P**

**Review anyway, please, and let me know what you thought? : )**


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